To Start Again
by Red Giraffes
Summary: After experiencing sever trauma, Harry has to change his way of living. Only with help is he able to be reborn out of the ashes. Slash? Possible HPGW.Before OotP.
1. Aflame

It was the middle of the day in the middle of the summer; a lone boy could be seen struggling with two big bags full of ice down a deserted suburban street. The driveways were even empty as more people parked their cars in their garages to avoid the extreme heat.

The strange boy with the oddly shaped scar hardly looked able to carry a newborn baby, let alone two huge bags of ice. He trudged along diligently in the heat, only stopping occasionally to sneak a partially melted ice cube from the bag to put in his mouth. He knew if his relatives found out, they would be furious.

He finally stopped at one of the many identical houses of the neighborhood, his too large shirt thoroughly soaked. One window of the house was open, with a fan facing outwards to blow the hot air out. The boy had gone to get the ice cubes to put in front of the other fan in the house, to try and cool the house without overusing electricity. He knew something was wrong when the only sound coming from the house was the sound of the fans running.

He stopped hesitantly at the door, putting the ice cubes on the ground. The skinny teenager knew something was wrong. He heard a loud sob, and decidedly entered the house, wand drawn out to use in case something was amiss.

"Harry, my boy, is that you?" A voice called out. Harry paused, barely recognizing it as Uncle Vernon's. He cautiously entered the house, into the living room where his only remaining relatives sat. Uncle Vernon's face was splotchy red, and his eyes were puffy and wet. In his arms he cradled Aunt Petunia, sobbing delicately; she looked so frail, almost as if the weight of Uncle Vernon's arm would be able to snap her in half. Across the living room, on the other couch, sat Dudley, silent, stoic, staring at a vase full of roses nearly expired in the hall. Harry was unsure of what to make of the scene before him, as this was most atypical to the usual day.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" The frail boy called hesitantly, unsure of what the uncle's reaction would be. His Uncle did not respond, just sat there staring at nothing, seeming to be coming to terms with his thoughts in his head.

"We just…We just found out that Marge… Well, Marge is dead. Found dead. .. She was so sick, but she didn't want to tell us, but she was. Her heart, it just gave out. And now… Now, she's gone." Uncle Vernon sat there, still not glancing towards Harry. The sobbing from Aunt Petunia seemed to worsen, as Harry tried to figure out an appropriate reaction. He just could not find it in himself to care, to put it frankly. With all the ridicule he was subjected to by his former Aunt, he was almost relieved to have her gone. One less person in his hate club. He tried to summon up the proper words to say, but words seemed to be failing the scarred young man at the moment.

"I'm sorry… She was… She will be missed." Harry muttered out meekly, trying to find the appropriate common saying people said to each other at funerals. He stood there awkwardly, ready to retreat to his room when his uncles focus snapped to him, the pudgy man's eyes bright and crazy. He stood up fast, taking bounding steps toward Harry as Aunt Petunia fell into the couch, to her surprise.

"You! You! You've got that… that stick thing, right? You could bring her back!" His uncle started to pace like a madman, as Harry watched him wearily.

" I'm sure it'd be easy for someone like you. Wave your stick, and I'll see her again! I'll give you whatever you want, presents for birthdays, Christmas, even Eater! I'll get you a car! I'll give you half of my savings! Come on, my boy, what do you say?" His Uncle stopped his mad pacing, and Harry became aware of the fact he was the sole focus of the room.

"Well… Umm… I can't. It's impossible." Harry mumbled, and looked at the ground, unwilling to see the disappointment in the surrounding faces. Uncle Vernon stormed up to Harry, and grabbed the boys face with a grubby hand, forcing Harry to look at him.

"What do you mean, not possible? Tell me that to my face, boy. I've seen things that should be impossible, and you can do them! None of them any more impossible than saving my sister! I think you don't want to. I already knew the whole lot of you to be selfish, immoral people, but this... I think you're just hoping to get some sort of money from her will. Hah! As if!" With that, Uncle Vernon picked Harry up with one big arm, and tossed him across the room like a toothpick. Harry felt his head slam on something, and struggle to get up as he reached for his wand.

"No! Not so fast, my boy!" Vernon said, hurling a vase at the already struggling Harry Potter. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were cowering terrified up against the wall. The force of the vase caused Harry to drop his wand. He barely registered the distinct sound of cracking when the vase hit him, followed by shattering as it rebounded to the floor. His wand rolled away from him, and his Uncle quickly ran a grabbed it.

"How about a taste of your own medicine, boy?" His uncle said, and randomly started flicking the wand at Harry. Having such a poor magical core, the wand did not react well, and simply caught on fire. His uncle threw it at the boy, missing and hitting the couch.

"Come, Petunia! We have to go! Just leave him, he's bound to burn in hell eventually, might as well get used to it now." The big man grabbed his son by the arm, and started to head out the door, but not without kicking Harry a few times first. Quickly, his adoptive family ran out of the house, leaving Harry behind.

Harry laid stunned, choking, coughing out some of his very own blood that he knew was filling his lungs. He tried to stand up, but only manage a sitting position, with the aid of a wall. All he could do was sit here and watch the flames as he tried to clear his head.

The couch caught on fire fast, and the house quickly filled with smoke. It didn't take long before the flames reached him, licking at his feet. Harry saw his wand at the edge of the flames, splintering, yet still whole. Harry quickly moved to grab it, knowing it to be his last chance to survive. He could feel the intense heat, slowly cooking his hand as he grabbed the wand. He quickly muttered out the spell to send red sparks in the air, hoping someone would see it and investigate. Instead, given the sorry state of his wand, it sent out a bright stream of red light, somehow causing the roof to collapse.

Harry quickly moved under a side table right next to him, his legs singed and caught under roof debris. He heard the smoke alarms sound off as more smoke filled the air. He pulled his shirt over his nose, hoping someone would come to save him.

** ( AN: I'm not sure where I am going with this. It is set before OotP. I'm trying out a more wordy writing style, tell me your thoughts. I'm not entirely sure what the pairings will be either, feel free to tell me your thoughts on the also. And if you are reading my other new story, I'm sorry for the lack of updates.) **


	2. Charred

On the fourth floor of St. Mungos Wizarding Hospital, there lied a fragile teenager unconscious in a sterile hospital bed. He was in a private room, so no other patients would bother him, or notify the press of his presence. There was, however, a large group of red headed wizards, a muggle born witch, and a shabby looking man. The three adults were having hushed conversations in the corner of the small room, while the rest seemed to work on school work on the floor next to the hospital bed. They all seemed to be waiting for Harry to awake.

They did not have to wait for much longer, before the boys eyes opened, wincing as he shifted in his bed. The school children looked up immediately, the lanky red head and the brunette witch immediately rushed to his side. The adults glanced towards Harry, the relief on their face evident as he moved more.

"Don't crowd him! The poor dear only just woke up. Give him some space!" The red headed mother said, walking over to lead two of the golden trio away.

"Molly, why don't we go home and eat lunch? Let's let Remus talk to Harry." The red-headed man said wearily, herding his children on the floor out the door, while his wife escorted the other two after him. Protest could be heard outside of the room, slowly softening as they got further and further away.

Remus sat down next to Harry in the only chair in the room, looking at him pitifully. The man pulled out a pair of glasses out of his coat to hand to the boy. Harry accepted them graciously, giving Remus a small smile as he put them on.

"Harry, I expect you'll be recognizing some major changes physically pretty soon here, as you wake up a bit more. Don't panic. It'll be okay. As you can probably feel, you received some pretty severe burns." He stopped and glanced at Harry, seeing he had lost his attention already. Harry was staring at his hands, shocked. At least, he was staring at what was left of his hand. His hand was so badly burnt, it was almost unrecognizable. The boys eyes started to fill with tears. Remus could only look at him; he couldn't even offer him any physical comfort due to his injuries.

"I'm so sorry, Harry They tried. Your hand just… it couldn't be saved any further. If it was a muggle fire, that would be one thing. But magical fire, well, the burns are harder to treat. They put a stasis spell on your hand for now, to see what you wanted to do. You could keep it preserved like it is, with some nerve therapy; you may be able to move your fingers again. Or they could remove the hand and replace it with a prosthetic- "

"No! No… I… no." The boy shuddered, and then winced in pain as he did so. He looked up at Remus, ashamed.

"It's okay Harry. No one is forcing you to do anything." The man said, trying to soothe Harry. Harry visibly relaxed, letting out a breath of relief.

"Harry, I'm going to tell you this now, just to get it over with. You had some broken ribs, but those were mended. One of the ribs also pierced your lungs, but that was also mended. Your feet were severely burned, but within a couple of months should be mostly back to normal. Oh, and you had a concussion and some bruising, also healed by the healer. It won't be long until you are bombarded with questions, by everyone. Due to the amount of smoke you inhaled, the healers say to limit your talking, so you should be fine for a couple of days."Remus was watching Harry now, who was sitting still, face expressionless. His eyes said everything, however, as the boy sorted through his thoughts in his mind.

Harry knew this was a problem. He knew he should feel concerned for his injuries, but he just felt… numb. He nodded to himself, numb was a good word to describe it. He knew it might even be better to remain numb, before he lost it in front of all of his friends, causing them to worry unnecessarily. Yes, for now, numb is best. He looked up at Remus, unaware of how long he has been lost in his own thoughts. He pointed to cup full of water, knowing his throat was too parched to talk at the moment.

Remus hastily reached out to grab the cup for the chosen one, wanting to help him as much as he possibly could. He gave him a sad smile as he handed to cup to him, knowing Harry was staying strong unnecessarily for everyone else.

Harry gulped the water nervously, finding the cup was automatically refilling, so it would never run out of water. When he felt he drank enough, he handed the cup back to Remus.

"How long?" Harry said, with a raspy voice. He observed the room he was in, while Remus interpreted the question. The room was small, with cheery yellow walls. There was a table close to him, but placed far enough to be out of reach. On the table there were a couple of magazines, pictures moving in the magical way that they do. He noticed some school books on the floor, still open to the page the owners were working on, parchment and quills scattered haphazardly over the floor. He looked back towards Remus, realizing he had been talking to him.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was asking if you meant how long you were out, or how long you would have to be in the hospital. To the first, three days. To the second, I really don't know." Harry nodded, and looked back at the wall. He was scared, though he would never admit it. He kept trying not to look down at his arm, knowing the results would be disastrous.

"Oh. Do you… Do you think they will still want me a Hogwarts? Or now that-"

"Of course, Harry! They would never expel you for something like this! Life maybe… well, it may be more difficult now, but they will never refuse a student because of any disabilities." Remus said, his face hardened, eyes sure. Harry remembered that the man had made it through Hogwarts as a werewolf, a taboo creature in wizarding society. His confidence must branch from that.

"Thank you. For everything." Harry said, looking up at his former professor. He gave the man a smile, to show how grateful he was. As long as he could still attend Hogwarts, everything would be alright.

**(AN: Another update, in celebration of achieving a Pottermore account on day 3! I'm also working on a tumblr account, if anyone would actually like to follow me there, let me know. Although no reviews, the feedback seems to be more positive than I could hope for. Thank you for the alerts and faves :) Once again, the pairing is not set in stone, feel free to request whatever pair you prefer. I like pretty much all pairings, even the obviously impossible ones! I will work on longer chapters in the future.)**


	3. Visitors

The door flew open; a witch in a bright green robe flew inside, and started working immediately. Spells, potions, questions, the whole charade. By the end Harry was completely exhausted, and grateful that he was allowed to remain awake. Dreams after a dreamless sleep potion tended to be ruthless. Remus had slipped out while the Healer was taking care of Harry, leaving him completely alone when the witch left.

It wasn't long before the door flew open once more, revealing his friends. The raven-haired boy felt better as soon as he saw the faces of his very best friends. They have helped him through so much; he knew he wouldn't be alive right now if it wasn't for them.

"Harry! Oh, Harry! We were so worried!" Hermione said with a worried face, running towards the hospital bed to give him a hug. Harry winced slightly, although healed; he was still quite tender due to the accident.

"Bloody hell, Harry! What's wrong with your hand?" Ron stammered, obviously staring at the injured hand, all the blood drained from his face. Harry's heart skipped a beat; he had forgotten his hand was under the blanket before he woke up.

"Ronald!" Hermione gasped, turning to face the red-headed boy. She smacked his arm; the sound rebounded through the tiny hospital room.

"I can't believe you just said that! You insensitive- "

"It's fine, Hermione. It's fine." Harry said, interrupting Hermione's rampage, yet still ignoring Ron's question. Ron stood awkwardly in the corner, completely embarrassed at the scene he just caused. Harry could tell already that Ron would not be visiting today, perhaps that was for the best.

"Fine. Anyways, How are you, Harry? Not in too much pain, I hope." Hermione said, breaking the silence of the room.

"I guess as well as I can be. Thirsty, no matter how much I drink. But I'm not in too much pain…" Harry could tell Hermione knew he was lying. The scarred boy was in an unfortunate amount of pain, the Healer who came in previously said that it was necessary and part of the healing process. It would also keep him from doing anything that could be harmful. He sighed, realizing he had spaced out again.

"What have you been up to?" Harry asked, truly curious. The letters he had gotten during the summer were non-descriptive at best; all were generic apologies about how they couldn't say anything more. He was glad to be able to know what was going on, finally. Much longer, and he would have been furious at his friends.

"Nothing much, really. I'd tell you, but… it's a secret matter. If I could perform a privacy charm…" Hermione said, unsure of how Harry would take being evaded again. He only shrugged, unable to find the energy to be mad.

"We have to go, Hermione. My mum said we could only stay for a few minutes, she's going to be furious if we stay much longer…" Ron stated, pointing towards the door awkwardly. It was nothing against Harry; Ron just did not know how to act in hospitals. He often shut down in big institutions like the one Harry was in.

"Oh, all right. We will try to visit later, Harry."

"My mum and dad should be by a bit later, the twins might even drop by for a visit, now that they have their bloody apparition license…" Harry could tell he was rather annoyed by that fact, possibly by the expression on his face, or the way his teeth grinded together, or maybe it was just his tone.

"Super." Harry said dryly, and watched sadly as his friends left. He was left to his own thoughts. He wished he could up and leave, walk right out of those doors ad head to the burrow. He wished he could be in there family room, playing wizards chess with Ron and listen to Hermione stress about O.W.L's. But he can't, and probably will not be able to for awhile.

Harry sadly stared at the wall; what do people do when they are stuck in wizarding hospitals? He yawned, while thinking about how uncomfortable he was in his own skin, how he would never be able to sleep in the strange place. Quickly following these thoughts, the fragile teen drifted off to sleep.

_Harry, was dreaming, and he knew perfectly well that it was a dream, but h couldn't help feel it was all too real. It was a nightmare. Voldemort laughing, Cedric falling, Chained to a grave, burning to death, screaming, though no one could hear… Harry was trapped within the terror of his own mind. _

Until hands, big and strong, shook him out of his terror. Still terrified upon awaking, he reached out to search for his glasses. He felt a hand grab his, and place his glasses inside. The world was safer, now that all the colors stayed within the lines; he could tell he was in the presence of a single Weasley twin, an odd sight all in itself.

"Harry? Are you alright?" George asked, panicked. Obviously, he did not have to deal with the sickly often. Harry gave him a fake smile, one of fake reassurance. One that did not do anything to reassure the red-headed teen.

"I'll be okay, in a minute." Harry replied voice hoarse from sleep. As he moved to sit up to be in a more visitor friendly position, George ran over to help him sit up, placing a pillow behind him.

"My mum and dad visited earlier, but you were fast asleep. You must have been really tired; they stayed until it was time for dinner. Anyways, Mum was worried about you, and set me over here to see if you were okay, because I could aparate now, so it would be more convenient than floo travel. Which, you were obviously not so it's good I came..." George said awkwardly, scratching his arm, looking anywhere but at Harry. To see the chosen one's arm all… blackened like that truly freaked him out. As much as being away from his twin did. George was the quieter one, and, he would willingly admit, the less funny of the two. Fred always knew what to say. George knew all too well how much Fred was preferred…

"So, how's the business going?" Harry asked nonchalantly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. George stared at him, thinking through what he could be talking about.

"Oh! The business! Sorry, I'm a bit slow this evening… Anyways, the business is going well. Don't tell my mum, but we have been able to create tons more products due to a very generous benefactor." He said, with a wink.

Harry chuckled weakly; he knew all too well who the mysterious benefactor was.

"Where's your other half? No mean to be rude, but it's a little odd to see only one of the two twins…" Not that Harry wasn't appreciative of the fact; Fred's boisterous attitude was a bit more than he could handle right now…

"Oh, Fred? He's… He's actually out on a date. With Angelina. They really hit off after that ball… Been almost inseparable lately…" The red-head knew how pathetic he must sound, jealous of the time someone else gets to spend with his twin. He always knew this day would come; Fred was bound to meet a girl he really liked someday. Fred was the one all the girls liked, he was the funny one after all. George was always the consolation prize.

"Oh. Well, that's nice for him, I guess…" The dark haired teen felt bad now, seeing how distraught George was. He never meant to make anyone else feel bad; he was feeling bad enough for three as it was.

"So… how long will you be in the hospital for?" George was really feeling the strain of the conversation, something that often happened when you throw to people who barely know each other in an existing awkward situation.

"Don't know. Probably until I can walk again."

"Wait, what? You can't walk?" George was flabbergasted. No one was told what was wrong with Harry, at least, no one besides his parents. George always assumed that Harry's arm was the only damage.

"Err… Yeah. I guess no one told you?"

"No… My parents felt it was too personal to tell us, in case you might get offended… You know, it's getting late, Mum is probably frantic. I better go give her an update… I'll see you later Harry." George started walking out of the door, when he heard a small, sad voice reply.

"Bye George… Come back anytime, not like I have anything else to do…"

**(AN: I think I managed to keep character within their character boundaries, at least, more so than usual. By the way, don't expect a relationship anytime soon. That would be obviously unrealistic.**

**Go check out my other stories! And my tumblr, linked as my homepage on my profile :D)**


	4. Spells

The night dragged on slowly as Harry was alone with only his disfigured hand for company. As his medicine started to fully wear off, he would try to get his fingers to move, then wince in pain, only to repeat the process moments later to see if it still hurts. He successfully counted the amount of tile on the ceiling –forty five- and the number of colors in the room- sixteen. He tried to convince a nurse to get him a quill and parchment, but she said he had to wait until they thought him well enough. He tried to read the forgotten textbooks on the floor, but unable to reach the books did not get very far. Overall, it was a very boring night.

It wasn't until midmorning the following day when he got visitors, in the form of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. Ginny stood awkwardly next to the bed, while Mrs. Weasley took the chair, staring at the boy with sad eyes.

"So… Harry. Hope you're not doing too badly." Ginny broke the silence, trying to start a conversation. Harry looked up at the girl, who was unwilling to look at him. Harry took a mental note of how pretty and mature Ginny was getting, it was unbelievable that she used to be the shy little girl he met in the station as a first year.

"Thanks Ginny. Have I missed anything exciting over the summer?"

"Err… No, not overly. I'm sure you'll be filled in with the details later." She said cryptically, ending the conversation. They sat in silence, the weird silence that Harry was beginning to see of visitors to the hospital.

"Harry, I have some… rather bad news. None of your school items survived… though we were able to get Hedwig out, she's at our house. Don't worry, we will take you school shopping as soon as possible. I'm sure you can borrow someone's books to do your summer homework…" Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes wearily watching the young boy process the information. Harry was at the point of not caring, he realized how lucky he was to outsmart the grim reaper once more; any material goods were not worth anguishing over.

"Thank you for telling me, Mrs. Weasley. I really appreciate it." Harry said sincerely, silently wondering where everyone else was at.

"Everyone else wanted to come and visit, but now that you are awake, they will only allow in two people until they feel you can handle more." Mrs. Weasley said, answering the question as it fated through Harry's thoughts. Harry muttered out thanks, and tried his hardest not to scratch at his hand. Or feet.

Just then, a mediwitch rushed in and ushered the people out. As soon as they were out, the mediwitch turned to Harry with a malevolent smile.

"Okay, Mr. Potter. It's time to begin therapy. Now, I'm going to examine your hand and feet, so try to remain still while I do so." She said, and threw the blanket off of the boy. He laid there, repressing any signs of pain as she moved his feet and hand.

"Very good, very good. Looks like you're making great progress. In a minute, I will apply spells to both your hands and feet, but until then I have some questions for you. Any food allergies?"

"Umm… not that I know of."

"Any previous surgeries- Muggle or otherwise?"

"No, don't think so."

"And medical problems in general?"

"I'm pretty sure I don't have any."

"Good, good. Now, how is your throat? Open wide." The mediwitch said, before plying his mouth open to peer down his throat.

"Very nice, seems to be healing just fine. You should be able to have longer conversations and more visitors now. And you should be able to eat real food, now that we are certain you have no problems to be concerned about. Okay, I will be casting some spells that I won't bother telling you about, because you will probably ignore me, but it will probably give you a weird sensation." The green robed witch got to work immediately, casting an array of complicated spells, coating Harry's feet in an iridescent gooey substance.

Harry was feeling the weird sensation, and indescribably sensation. It actually made him feel slightly nauseous.

"How long will it last?" He asked, staring wearily at his oddly colored feet. The finished products left almost a purple sock made of hair gel.

"Well, first you need to keep your feet propped up, and let it dry, that will probably take several hours. Once dry, it will act as a second skin, allowing the old tissue to grow at its own pace. Plus, it will allow you to walk. But, it will have to be reapplied every week to remain effective. It's actually a new technique, inspired from the idea of Muggle skin grafting, so we will have to see how it works." She said while observing his hand, and applied a different spell to his hand.

"This one will basically encase your hand so you can't damage it while it is healing. It will also keep diseases away while your wound is so fresh. That's it for today; tomorrow someone should be in for therapy. Since we decided to try out the… experimental spells on you instead of the traditional route, you could be out of the hospital by next week. "The green-robed witch left with a smile, leaving the scarred boy to stare at his feet. Sighing, he realized he was no longer allowed a blanket, because the grafting spell had to dry.

He wasn't alone for five minutes before his room gained numerous amounts of eager visitors. Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Fred, George, and Professor Lupin. He smiled at them, but then wondered where his godfather was at.

"Where is… uh… Where is Snuffles at?"Harry asked, disappointed. He knew the answer already, yet he still couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"Oh… you know how he is. He'll be there whenever you come home." Remus said from the corner of the room, peering at Harry behind the mass of people.

"Oh, okay… Someone left their school books here?"

"Oh! Those would be mine!" Ginny said blushing, and ran to grab the books off the floor. The room fell silent, with so many people the conversation had nowhere to go.

"So… Harry. What did the mediwitch say?" Hermione asked helpfully, trying to break the weird silence that fell over the room like an impossibly thick fog.

"Well… With this spell they are testing they said I could be out a lot sooner than before…"The conversation lulled once again, Harry watched as everyone squirmed in the room.

"Well, I better be go to speak with Professor Dumbledore about this, he wanted to know how you were doing. Bye, Harry. Hope you get better soon!" With a wave, Professor Lupin left the room.

"C'mon Fred, don't we have that thing to do?" George said, elbowing he brother's side. The twin turned to look at him with a smile.

"Right! Of course! Sorry to leave such a wonderful conversation Harry-"

"-but we really must be going! We-"

"-will be back later, don't you worry." With a wave and a grin, the two twins left the room. The only people left were Ginny Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione. Silently, the two red-headed women stepped out of the room, leaving the Golden Trio alone. Harry smiled up at his friend, glad to finally have time alone with them.

"Hey." He said softly, pushing himself up so he was no longer lying down.

"What's up with your feet?" Ron blurted out, causing Harry to laugh on the inside. Ron always could be counted on to speak what's on his mind.

"Always the subtle one, aren't we Ronald?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes at the boy's bluntness.

"Why do you have to be so sarcastic? It was just an-"

"Well, maybe if you weren't-"

"GUYS! Come on, let's not fight. Not now. Ron, it's some kind of thing to let my feet heal and to let me walk on them while they are healing. The person said it should be dry in a few hours. I have one on my hand too, except this one is clear. See?" Harry said, holding up his hand, which appeared to have a thick coating of the gel like substance.

"Harry, do you know what spells they used? I've been reading up on treatments and-"Hermione started to ramble; Harry knew it was a good time to interrupt otherwise she would talk about every healing technique that she knows of.

"No, sorry. She just said it was a new technique that was inspired by the muggles practice of skin grafting." Hermione's eyes lit up, she obviously knew what he was talking about. Just like you can depend on Ron to be as blunt as a ball, you can depend on Hermione for her infinite pool of knowledge.

"So... What do you do around here?" Ron said, looking around, noticing the obvious lack of entertainment available.

"Well, I have visitors sometimes. But that is about it. I don't know, I wanted a quill and parchment, but they refused to give it to me. Hopefully, I can find a place with the school reading books so I can start on that."

"Oh! I brought one with me, just in case. Here, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Though I'm afraid it isn't summer reading per say, but it's better than nothing." Harry accepted the book with a gracious nod.

"Harry, not that I mean to bother you or anything, but you do realize that they will question you, right? Luckily, this has kept out of the press thus far, but the Ministry is going to want answers. Though, maybe if you just tell Professor Dumbledore the whole story, he can tell it for you."

"There isn't much to tell… I was asleep, the Dursley's were away, and the house must have caught on fire somehow…" Harry said, trying to make up a story in his mind, finding he lacked a vast amount of details to make it anywhere near convincing. Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry, but said nothing, letting Harry keep his secrets for now.

"Who do you think they will hire for our DADA teacher this time? Another raving lunatic?" Ron said, causing the conversation to break into an effortless lone; one shared by the weary souls of the young adults.

**(AN: Sorry for the lull between updates, I'm suffering from writers block severely. Hopeful you still enjoyed it :D)**


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